


Crisis Intervention

by digthewriter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-11
Updated: 2014-01-11
Packaged: 2018-01-08 08:14:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1130353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/digthewriter/pseuds/digthewriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aurors are required to discuss their case with a specialist when something goes awry. Harry was supposed to talk about his mission, yet he can't stop talking about Malfoy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crisis Intervention

**Author's Note:**

  * For [the_undaunted](https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_undaunted/gifts).



_Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is made, and no copyright infringement is intended._

* * *

“Why don’t you tell me how it began?”  
  
Harry sat on a very comfortable sofa, across from a woman wearing purple robes; she had a parchment and quill in her hand. Her legs were crossed and she was relaxing on her own cushioned chair.  
  
Harry sighed. “It was his fault, of course. I’m supposed to be the rash one and he’s supposed to be the calm and collected one. That’s what everyone thinks anyway and now—he’s gone and done—” He sighed again.  
  
Harry looked up at the woman who had her eyebrow raised, but didn’t speak.  
  
“We were on a mission, and I told him to stay behind me. He isn’t an Auror, he’s a consultant. I was supposed to examine the artefacts and when my team identified them as safe, then he was supposed to examine them. Not before. Of course, he never listens to me!”  
  
“Do you blame the consultants for the accident?”  
  
“No, of course not! I just blame him for being an obnoxious prat!” Harry answered, and ran his hands through his hair. Unable to sit any longer, as he’d already been in the woman’s office for twenty minutes, Harry stood up and began pacing.  
  
"I was given clear instructions, we all were. Do not touch anything until Auror Potter has identified the item as safe. Everyone was supposed to be careful—no matter what you thought—you were to not TOUCH ANYTHING!" Harry roared. "Now, I go in and out of his hospital room every day and he's just laying there—unconscious."  
  
“Auror Potter…” The woman spoke softly. “I was informed that there were two consultants with you and three other Aurors.” Harry nodded. “Both the consultants were caught in the blast and one of the Aurors is also injured. To whom exactly are you referring to?”  
  
“Malfoy, obviously.”  
  
“Ah…” The woman looked into Harry’s eyes and nodded as though she knew something, as though it all made sense suddenly. She turned to her parchment and began scribbling something.  
  
“What was that for?” Harry asked. He tried to walk towards her, to take a look at the parchment about what she was writing.  
  
“Why don’t you sit down?” the woman asked.  
  
“What—why did you react that way?” Harry sat on the sofa and leaned back again. He was told that if lying down was more comfortable for him, he was welcome to do that as well. He thought sitting up straight was best.  
  
“In what way?” she asked.  
  
“As though you know something about me and Malfoy.”  
  
“So there is something to know about you and Mr Malfoy?”  
  
“No!” Harry spat out. “He’s an annoying prat and I was simply stuck with him for this mission.”  
  
“I see…”  
  
“What? What do you _see_?”  
  
The woman rolled up her parchment and placed it on the table next to her chair along with the quill. She leaned forwards and placed her elbow on her knee resting her chin on the palm of her hand. “Why are you here, Auror Potter?”  
  
Harry was surprised by the woman’s question. Surely she knew why Harry was there. He was asked by Kingsley, along with the other Aurors after they were debriefed about their mission to report to the Crisis Intervention Centre for routine psychological check-up.  
  
“I was told to report here for my scheduled appointment. It’s routine after a team member has been injured in the line of duty—”  
  
“Yes, and you’ve informed me, rather expressively, that Mr Malfoy is _not_ a team member. Wasn’t Auror Weasley affected by the blast? Isn’t he your partner and—according to my notes—your best friend?”  
  
“Yeah, Ron will be alright.” Harry brushed off the woman’s comment about Ron’s health. “He’s been through worse.”  
  
“He has?” she asked, casually.  
  
“Yeah, we were in the war together, I mean months of living on our own, Horcrux hunting...Then starting Auror training together. I know he’ll be up by tomorrow morning and would want to get back to work. Ron isn’t the problem.”  
  
“Right. Mr Malfoy is the problem.”  
  
“Exactly!” Harry said excitedly. “You’re finally understanding my issue.”  
  
“No, I’m afraid, I’m really not,” the woman answered. Harry groaned. “Auror Potter, we have been here for nearly a half hour, and you haven’t talked about anything else but how the mission went wrong and it was all Mr Malfoy’s fault. You’ve shown concern regarding his health—a man you supposedly hate—yet when it comes to the health of your best friend and partner, you seem rather nonchalant. I'm sure that Auror Weasley is perfectly capable at his job and will make a recovery in no time. I just can’t help but wonder…”  
  
“Wonder what?” Harry snapped again.  
  
“...about your obsession with Mr Malfoy. Are you—do you find—?” The woman raised her eyebrow again and turned her gaze towards the parchment next to her chair. Harry thought she was contemplating picking it up again and scribbling some more notes.  
  
“Do I find what?” Harry asked before the woman’s hand could reach the parchment. He didn’t want her to write down any more annotations.  
  
“Are you attracted to Mr Malfoy, Auror Potter?”  
  
Harry’s eyes widened and he heard himself make a sound that he couldn’t quite explain what exactly it was. It was a sort of squeal that was part disbelief and part disgust, yet he did find the question a bit intriguing. He wouldn’t tell that to the Specialist sitting in front of him, though.  
  
He shook his head in disbelief and leaned back on the sofa some more.  
  
“This is the first time you’ve been quiet since you’ve walked in regarding the matter.”  
  
“The matter?” Harry asked.  
  
“Mr Malfoy.”  
  
“I’m not here about Malfoy.”  
  
“Aren’t you? You haven’t shown any interest in anything else.”  
  
“I’m here so you can sign off on the parchment indicating that I’m not emotionally unstable due to what happened in the cave and then I can return back to my job.”  
  
“And Mr Malfoy?”  
  
“He’s in the hospital wing and I’ll—”  
  
“You’ll what?” The woman sounded intrigued.  
  
Harry gulped and began tapping his foot. He did that when he was nervous. He wouldn’t even have known that if Hermione hadn’t pointed it out to him last Christmas. “I’ll probably visit him if he’s there—”  
  
“What’s the matter?” the woman asked, after Harry had stopped talking and he was staring down on his hands.  
  
“It’s Christmas. If Malfoy doesn’t wake up, then he won’t be with his family—”  
  
“That’s an awful lot of interest in someone who is an obnoxious prat,” the woman noted.  
  
“It’s just that last year his father passed and I know that he—I mean his mother—had a difficult time dealing with it. So if now he’s in the hospital this year—that just won’t be very joyful at all.”  
  
“And you seem to care tremendously about his mother as well.”  
  
Now Harry was really getting annoyed. “She did save my life.”  
  
“Right.” There was a gentle chime and the woman straightened up immediately. “I’m sorry, but that’s all the time we have for today,” she said. “I’d like to continue this conversation in our next session before I sign off on your credentials.”  
  
Harry nodded. He was willing to do whatever the woman wanted to get back in the field.  
  
“Also, I’d like you to think about my question and have an answer for me. Even if it’s just a yes or a no.”  
  
“Your question?” Harry asked, raising an eyebrow. He placed his hand in his robes pocket and pulled out a pocket watch to look at the time.  
  
“Regarding your attraction towards Mr Malfoy,” the woman said, smiling softly.  
  
“Oh,” Harry replied, and the door swung open. “Thank you.”  
  


*-*-*-*

  
  
Harry walked out of the offices of Crisis Intervention Centre and headed towards the Floo. He thought over the words the Specialist had said: “Obsession,” and “Attraction.” Sure, Malfoy was an attractive bloke. Everyone thought that. He was often the talk of Ministry and the wizarding world gossip.  
  
Many were surprised at how he had turned out after the war and the Trials. He’d disappeared for a few years and then surfaced as a Potions Expert and Scientist. He had become the “go to” wizard for any questions and consultations along with the next best bachelor to snag.  
  
The _Prophet_ had had a field day with the news that since Harry had come out as gay, Malfoy had been the next sought after eligible man, until it was revealed that he was also gay. Many people had written editorial pieces in the _Prophet_ about why Harry and Malfoy would be perfect together. It annoyed Harry and he knew that it thoroughly frustrated Malfoy.  
  
After that, Harry hadn’t even _thought_ about Malfoy as someone who was “attractive,” because he couldn’t even give himself the satisfaction of the fantasy of having something with Malfoy—he hated Harry.  
  
Harry arrived at the Ministry Floo and selected to go to St Mungo’s—to check up on Ron, and maybe Malfoy—if he was alone in his room.  
  
Lost in his thoughts again, Harry began walking towards the Spell Damage floor, and reached Malfoy’s room. He’d passed Ron’s and hadn’t even realised it. He saw Malfoy on the bed with his eyes closed. Harry didn’t know if he was still knocked unconscious or simply sleeping. He quietly entered the room and sat on the chair next to Malfoy.  
  
Malfoy looked peaceful—as though he was simply sleeping—and he’d wake up any moment from then and begin arguing with Harry. If he’d even acknowledge Harry’s presence in the first place, that is. Harry chuckled to himself at the thought and examined Malfoy up and down. Then he simply stared at Malfoy’s face. Though he liked a quiet Malfoy, Harry preferred a more awake Malfoy than to what was in front of him. Malfoy’s blond hair wasn’t as perfect as Harry always remembered to be and some of it fell across his forehead. Almost instinctively, Harry reached up, getting up from his chair, and swept his hand across Malfoy’s forehead. Harry brushed Malfoy’s hair off the side, and he wasn’t sure why exactly he decided to do this, but Harry leaned in and kissed Malfoy’s forehead.  
  
“Potter?” Malfoy mumbled softly.  
  
Harry panicked. _Sleeping_ then, not unconscious.  
  
“I...Erm. I was just brushing your hair off your forehead,” Harry answered, stuttering along the way.  
  
“And the kiss?” Malfoy asked, his voice a bit unyielding.  
  
“I was...I didn’t know if you were sleeping or still comatose,” Harry said. It was partially the truth. He really didn’t know why he’d leaned in to kiss Malfoy.  
  
“I gained consciousness this morning and I was resting,” Malfoy answered. He didn’t sound as outraged as Harry imagined he would be.  
  
“Oh, well…that’s good,” Harry said. He straightened up and began to step back from Malfoy’s bed. Malfoy pulled on Harry’s arm and a moment later, held his hand. Harry looked down at his hand, then at Malfoy, into his eyes.  
  
“I’m awake…” Malfoy whispered and Harry nodded. “You can kiss me on the lips.” It wasn’t a request, nor was it a command. Harry didn’t know what to do with the statement. “Now,” Malfoy added.  
  
Harry didn’t need to be told twice; he immediately leaned in and pressed on Malfoy’s lips. Malfoy’s lips were soft, but a bit chapped. Harry reckoned that moisturising wasn’t necessarily a priority given Malfoy had been out for a few days. Malfoy licked Harry’s lower lip and Harry immediately opened his mouth inviting Malfoy’s tongue in. His hand grabbed Malfoy’s waist as he leaned in closer. It was as though all of a sudden Harry wanted nothing more than to feel Malfoy’s body. He pressed himself onto Malfoy, who immediately pulled on Harry's shirt, pulling him on top of him.  
  
Harry’s hands were in Malfoy’s hair as he was gasping for air with short breaks, not wanting to let go of Malfoy’s mouth for longer than two seconds. Malfoy’s hand had reached under Harry’s shirt and Harry loved feeling Malfoy’s hands, surprisingly rough, on his skin. Harry moaned into Malfoy’s mouth when he felt Malfoy’s erection brush up Harry’s thigh.  
  
“Fuck, Potter…” Malfoy whispered after Harry’s hand had released Malfoy’s hair and travelled down to stroke Malfoy above his hospital gown. Malfoy moaned again as Harry’s strokes became harsher and faster.  
  
Harry quickly grabbed his wand from his pocket and spelled the hospital door closed before returning his hand on Malfoy, now under the gown.  
  
“Is this okay?” Harry whispered, before he attached his lips to Malfoy’s again.  
  
“Yes, please...don’t stop!” Malfoy nearly begged and Harry’s hand concentrated on Malfoy. Then Malfoy was coming on Harry’s hand and under his gown. He was moaning Harry’s name, incoherent words, swearing—indicating the many ways he appreciated Harry’s actions.  
  
Harry collapsed on Malfoy’s body as he removed his hand from Malfoy’s prick and wrapped his arms around Malfoy. “Bugger,” Harry whispered.  
  
“What?” Malfoy asked, his tone a bit concerned.  
  
“Obsessed _and_ attracted,” Harry replied softly, and he kissed Malfoy’s neck gently. He tasted a bit of sweat on Malfoy’s neck and licked his neck again.  
  
“How did you know?” Malfoy asked.  
  
Harry immediately looked up at Malfoy, and he saw a look of apprehension all over the grey eyes. Harry smiled and felt a bit relieved. He wasn’t the only one.  
  
“How long?” Harry asked.  
  
Malfoy let out an exasperated sigh. “For as long as I can remember,” he answered. “You?”  
  
Harry chuckled. “Same.”  
  


*-*-*-*

  
  
Moments later, Harry spelled Malfoy’s thighs and gown clean and got off the bed and fixed his clothes. “I have to go check in on Ron, but I’ll be back.”  
  
Malfoy nodded, looking expectant.  
  
“When they release you, I’d like to take you home,” Harry said.  
  
“Yours or mine?” Malfoy asked and Harry didn’t know if he was joking or being serious.  
  
“Whatever you want,” Harry replied with a smile. “Do you still live at the Manor?”  
  
Malfoy shook his head, then bit his lower lip. “I’ve got a flat…” Harry couldn’t resist and leaned in to kiss Malfoy. Malfoy’s hand immediately travelled up Harry’s neck and pulled him in to deepen the kiss.  
  
Harry was hard from before when he’d gotten Malfoy off and this wasn’t helping. He thrust into Malfoy’s hand as soon as it had reached Harry’s groin. “Okay, definitely your flat...as soon as they say you can go home…” Harry panted the words in between the snogs.  
  
Harry abruptly broke the kiss, pulling himself away from Malfoy. “I have to stop...otherwise, I can’t…”  
  
“I understand,” Malfoy answered. His smile widened before he spoke again. “I can’t wait to go home.”  
  
Harry ran his hands through his hair and turned to leave the room. He was going to check up on Ron, then return to the Crisis Intervention Centre to give an answer to the Specialist. Definitely obsessed and absolutely attracted.  
  
 _The End_

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to ARJD for the beta!


End file.
